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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27064366">Family is only by blood</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kono_Rohan_Da/pseuds/Kono_Rohan_Da'>Kono_Rohan_Da</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Rohan's Whumptober 2020 [17]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Whump, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Family Secrets, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Running Away, Sawamura Daichi is a Mess, Sawamura Daichi-centric, Third Years as Friends, Whump, Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:47:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,298</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27064366</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kono_Rohan_Da/pseuds/Kono_Rohan_Da</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sawamura Daichi always tried being a perfect child. Besides being captain of the volleyball team, he’s also top of the class. He’s the class representative for the student council. He’s never been tardy. He plans on going to college. And all of that for his family. So that the looks his mom gives him will no longer be of disgust and hatred, so that when he comes home with high-scores, it's not to a cold "you can do better" but a "good job" instead. </p><p>The words his "mother" just told him ring in his head, the panicked cries of his little siblings muffled. He turns on his heel and exits the house the way he came in not minutes ago. And he runs.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Azumane Asahi &amp; Sawamura Daichi &amp; Shimizu Kiyoko &amp; Sugawara Koushi, Hinata Shouyou &amp; Sawamura Daichi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Rohan's Whumptober 2020 [17]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948426</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>106</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Family is only by blood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Once again, Daichi Whump. If my chart is correct, this is my fifth Daichi-whump fic......I have nothing to say<br/>Join my server if you feel like it: https://discord.gg/sFqmZ9G</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sawamura Daichi is a calm person. He's able to keep himself together in moments of stress (he actually works better in those conditions). He's able to quickly solve disputes. He's usually the o one people he knows go to for help. He smiles when he wants to smiling, he has fun...but all of that is only at school. </p><p> </p><p>He’s always tried being a perfect child. Besides being captain of the volleyball team, he’s also top of the class. He’s the class representative for the student council. He’s never been tardy. He plans on going to college (for what, he doesn’t know yet), he babysits his siblings when his parents need to go out, he cooks dinner once and a while, he makes breakfast more than once in a while. He never argues. He never spends money needlessly or asks for it. He hasn’t thrown a tantrum or had an argument with his parents since grade school. </p><p> </p><p>But even with him doing all of that, he can’t shake the feeling that they wish he never existed. And that’s considering the fact that they aren’t home as often as they should be, working most of the day for five to six days a week. </p><p> </p><p>His mom would get angry at him for the littlest of things. That anger would occasionally transfer to his younger siblings. Even thought they’re in their last year of middle school, they still prefer to go to him over their parents for comfort, snuggling under his blanket in the middle of the night, getting the futon he has under the bed for situations just like this to lie down on, or just hugging him. And no matter how much his mom yells at him, even the rare times his dad joins her, he never says anything back. He knows he should, because being quiet means he’s just taking it all in, accepting it, but...either of them...they never apologize. They always apologize to his little siblings and give them something as an apology...but they’ve never done the same for him. </p><p> </p><p>But, this time, it’s been a long day. It’s a Friday so Daichi should be pretty relaxed, even though they have practice tomorrow (he thinks even Tsukishima enjoys weekend practice). But he had some tests in all of his classes, he forgot to pack his own lunch to he had to buy from the school, his personal favorite meatbun type had been all out, he hadn’t gotten good sleep and early-wake-up, of course, for practice, and now he steps through the doorway and his parents are actually <em> home </em>. </p><p> </p><p>“Ah, Daichi” his mother calmly says, holding a paper up. Ah. He recognizes it. Last week’s kanji test. “What is this.” Daichi closes the door, slipping his shoes off and putting on his house slippers. </p><p> </p><p>“My kanji test from last week, mom.” Daichi answers. A look to his right confirms that his siblings aren’t in their room, but as usual, waiting together just like the twins they are, snacking at the table while watching him. He doesn’t like it when they’re there to watch their parents yell at him. Well, a lot more his mom than his dad...</p><p> </p><p>“And what score did you get?”</p><p> </p><p>“A...an eighty-nine.” </p><p> </p><p>His little sister stands up, a proud smile on her face, bright green eyes that she god from her mother wide and bright. “Nii-chan, you’re so smart!” She exclaims. “I want to be like you!” Her brother nods, both of them smiling at Daichi. </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, an eighty-nine. I expect more from you, Daichi. Why didn’t you get at least a ninety-five?” His mom releases a sigh. “Kanji is only memorization- I expected better from you. I pay for your volleyball club fees, I pay for your expenses, I support you-”</p><p> </p><p>“Father” Daichi grits out, grip tightening on his bags. “An eighty-nine is a good score.” His mom stands up. </p><p> </p><p>“Chiyo, Rin, go upstairs.” Daichi tightens his fist. His little siblings don’t protest, quickly going upstairs. The house is silent for a few moments. “Daichi, come here.” Daichi tightens his hand around his bag strap and walks closer to his mom, who has stood up, test dropped back onto the chair behind him. He’d gotten the highest score in the class. The test wasn’t even graded! It was just to see how much advanced kanji the class knows as a while, so she wouldn’t have to go over kanji they already know. </p><p> </p><p>His mom slaps him across the face. It hurts. She never holds back anyway. </p><p> </p><p>“You <em> disgust me </em> ” his mother r spits. “I choose to raise you and you disappoint me in this way. You’re supposed to be a good child” he continues, voice rising “BUT HERE YOU ARE, NOT EVEN DOING <em> ANYTHING </em>TO CHANGE THINGS-”</p><p> </p><p>“I CAN’T ALWAYS BE PERFECT!” He roars back, no longer able to take it any longer. “I don’t know why you seem to hate me so much. Oh I’ve tried, I’ve tried <em> so much </em> ” he lets out a humorless laugh “but I can’t ever seem to please you and mum. Tell me, when was the last time you told me you were proud? The last time you bought me something? The last time <em> you celebrated my birthday just like you celebrated my siblings’ </em>?” He takes step after step towards his mom, no longer hunching over, using the ten centimeters he has on him to his advantage. </p><p> </p><p>“When was the last time you told me “here, son, let me do that” or tried doing anything for me? When was the last time you hugged me before sending me off to school?” His voice breaks. “Mom...why won’t you treat me like your own son?” </p><p> </p><p>He closes his eyes. Just as he expects, he’s punched in the face. He winces, because that actually <em> does </em>hurt. And then he’s kicked in the shin and that hurts even more. </p><p> </p><p>“You bastard” his mother seethes. “You, are not, my child.” She says between breaths. “You’re not my son. You were born right <em> after </em>we were married because your father decided to knock up a woman during our engagement. And she decided she wanted nothing left to do with you are for some reason, your father decided to take you in. That was a mistake.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” He whispers,the pain in hi leg and face nothing compared to the pain his heart. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re not my son” she cooly says. “You’re not my children’s brother. You’re just a thing we decided to take in out of pity.” Daichi closes his eyes. His breath comes shaky and when he opens them, he has to stop the tears from falling. </p><p> </p><p>“Mom? I-is that true?” Daichi’s eyes widen and he tightens his hand even more on his bag strap, enough the the ends of his fingers meet flesh. “Is Nii-chan not” he years Rin’s voice waver. His little brother...not his brother….but wouldn’t that just make him his half brother. Daichi’s head raises. </p><p> </p><p>“Rin-”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s not your brother” his mom cooly says. </p><p> </p><p>“B-but Nii-chan!” His little sister says. “If we’re all papa’s children, then we’re still siblings, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“No.” His mom cooly says. “Compared to you, Daichi is dirt. He doesn’t even deserve the name his father gave him. He’s worthless. You should all forget about him.” And then as if she never said anything so world shaking, she ends with one last thing: “Also, Daichi, I am craving miso soup for dinner.” </p><p> </p><p>“You know what” Daichi says, anger flourishing. “Fuck. You.” He curses for the first time in his life to another person, rather than quietly whispering the insult under his breath in private for a feel of it. He doesn’t stay to see their reactions. Instead, he spins on his heel, kicking his house slippers off and jamming them into his sneaks, the back part folding under his foot as he doesn’t bother to put them on correctly. He just needs to <em> get away </em>. </p><p> </p><p>“Nii-chan!” Chiyo calls to him. </p><p> </p><p>“Chiyo, stay” his mother commands. “He’s not you’re brother. He’s not even family.” He wonders why in grade school he wrote a poem about her, focusing on her beautiful eyes. They aren’t beautiful. They’re just green stained pieces of coal. He feels ashamed that mentally he can’t call her anything other than mom, even though it isn’t true: biologically and mentally. </p><p> </p><p>He slams the door behind him. He hopes it knocks down her previous glass heirloom figurines. </p><p> </p><p>There’s so much <em> anger </em>coursing through him. Is this what Tanaka and their other brash enemies feel on the court? Court. He should go to a court. Courts are safe. </p><p> </p><p>And…</p><p> </p><p>And….</p><p> </p><p>He squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head. He’s not going to cry, he’s not going to. He has a gym membership, one of the few things he asked his parents for. His walk turns into a run and within te minutes, he’s at the gym, huffing and puffing because he’s not carrying one but <em> two </em> bags. <em> At least there’s washing machines here.  </em></p><p> </p><p>After showing his card, he walks to the washing machines first, throwing his dirty practice clothes in and turning the nob. Then he goes to the the indoor dual basketball and volleyball court. There’s no noe playing basketball so he gets an employee to get the volleyball cart out. Then he pulls out his phone and pulls up the pre-downloaded volleyball videos he has downloaded. At the end of watching the demo of a jump serve, he doesn’t feel less angry, just move. The fire burns in his veins, the anger near visible. His hand is shaking as he puts his phone in his bag and adjusts the cart, grabbing a ball. </p><p> </p><p>Screw warming up first. </p><p> </p><p>He starts with some normal serves before standing in place, throwing the ball up, then jumping up after it before hitting it, trying to get it over the net or at least to it. His plan was to build up the techniques for a jump serve. He only does the jumpy thing once before taking a few steps back, holding the ball up, getting ready to serve. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Let’s go. I’ll show you, mother, that I’m not dirt. That I’m not useless.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He hears his phone buzz from his bag but he doesn’t answer it, focusing on his serves. It’s strange, never having done this before, but he shoves aside the uncomfortableness. Serve after serve, he jumps up and fails. Sweat streams down his body. His feet hurt. He collects the balls and restarts. Some of them make it over but they’re weak. One hour. Two hours. His hand is bright red and stinging but he doesn’t care. His breathing becomes harsher and this isn’t really working if he’s still anger. He wonders why he hasn’t tried learning jump serves before, even though Asahi and Kageyama can do them already. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I’ll show them all, I’ll show them.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>And one by one, more of them start to make it over. Most of them are outside but that’s still good because it’s only been two hours of non-stop practice. His throat is dry and his lungs beg for a break but he doesn’t yield. </p><p> </p><p>One more. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Smack!  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>One more. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Smack! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ONE MORE! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Thump. </p><p> </p><p>He lands on his hands and knees, sweat dripping from his nose along with the tears. He sits back on his feet and sobs into his hands. “Why” he whispers. “Why am I never enough. . .” He collects the balls, reluctantly pushing the cart into the storage room. Then he retrieves his now dried clothes from the washing machine, changing and putting his sweat stained clothes in there, waiting the fifteen minutes for it to wash and dry, taking it out, folding them, and putting them in his bag before leaving. It’s ten minutes before the closing time of eleven. He’s tired, he’s drained. </p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t want to go home. </p><p> </p><p>He trudges to a cafe that’s practically build for the areas insomniacs, opening at six in the afternoon and closing at five in the morning, and offering free wi-fi. Many times when Daichi can’t sleep, he leaves early in the morning, so early some may not consider it morning but night, staying a few hours and having breakfast and warm drinks (he gets some for free due to how popular he’s become with the  before heading to the gym and waiting for practice to start. </p><p> </p><p>“Sawamura-kun! You’re early this time!” The middle-age woman, Mamiko-san calls. “It’s only eleven-thirty!”</p><p> </p><p>“Obasan” Daichi says, placing his bags by the closest booth. Mamiko’s eyes narrow slightly, probably taking in the puffy area around his eyes. His phone feels heavy in his pocket, even heavier since he put it on silent to shut up the continuous pings. Mamiko steps from around the counter and holds her arms open. Daichi stares at the woman who has known him for six years now, always giving him a free cupcake on his birthday, helping him with his homework. She’s more of a mother than his real one has ever been. </p><p> </p><p>He hugs her and breaks again. Mamiko says something to the employee in the kitchen and ushers Daichi to the booth he threw his stuff in, holding him. </p><p> </p><p>“Here, tell me what happened.” And just like that, the floodgates are torn down. He talks about the horrible treatment his mom has given him his whole life, how his father doesn’t do anything about it. How he tries to be perfect, tries so much, only for all of that to go null when she outed the fact that she’s not actually his mother, that in front of his siblings, she said that he’s not even family. And it’s just...he doesn’t even know his biological mom. He never knew her. She didn’t want him, leaving him on his just-married father’s doorstep. </p><p> </p><p>“Would you like some hot chocolate?” She asks. Daichi nods. He knows she goes home at midnight and feels guilty that she’s probably going to stay just to keep him company. Along with the hot chocolate, she also brings warm rice with curry poured on top. </p><p> </p><p>He wolfs it all down, even the seconds and thirds she brings him. He has a large appetite already and all the crying and exercising made it worse. She asks him about anything. How volleyball is going. How his gym venting went. How his classes are going. Tanaka and Nishinoya’s latest crazy attempts at getting Kiyoko’s attention. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m getting old- I need my sleep. But I trust you.” She pats his head at three in the morning. “Here’s the spare keys. I’ve had Hashi-kun lock all the doors and I’ll lock it behind me. Make sure you lock-up after you leave.” He looks at the key. </p><p> </p><p>“Wh-when do I return it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Keep it” she says with a smile. “You’re no thief. Come back anytime, even if no-one is here. If home gets too rough, if you need to get away, if you’re playing an intense game of hide and seek.” Daichi cracks a smile at that. “And you get some sleep too. But make sure you check your phone first. I’ll see you.” Then she goes. </p><p> </p><p>Daichi sits there, looking at the blind-covered windows, before taking his phone out in the darkness. </p><p> </p><p>Over three hundred texts. Twenty- two voice messages. He scrolls to the bottom. Five minutes after he left. His brother. </p><p> </p><p>“Daichi-nii!” His brother sobs. “Please come home! Come on, please! You don’t have to run away- you don’t need to! I know mom is crappy to you but she didn’t mean to be so mean. Dad’s home now- he’s really angry at her. Please call back.”</p><p> </p><p>The next one is twenty minutes later. From Koushi. </p><p> </p><p>“I swear to the gods, Daichi, I have no idea what’s going on but your precious little sister just called me saying that you ran away from home. I’m going to your house right now and I swear, if you aren’t there-” he pauses for a moment before continuing. “Never mind- Asahi and Kiyoko are also coming with me. If you aren’t there <em> all </em>of us are gonna give you hell.” But Daichi smiles when he senses the worry in his voice. </p><p> </p><p>The rest of the voice mails are from an hour after he left to eleven at max. At least they’re getting their sleep, he supposes. All of them have the same break down: Daichi/Daichi-san/Sawamura, where are you? What happened? Suga-san/Kiyoko/Sugawara/ASAHI-SAN said that they don’t know where you are. Have you been kidnapped/Did the aliens take you/Are you dead?</p><p> </p><p>He goes to the texts and reads them, knowing fully well that they’ll be listed as read now rather than delivered. </p><p> </p><p>There’s texts from his dad. A long, lengthy explanation about why he should come back home. His dad...he’s actually nice. He’s actually a good father, spending time with him when his mom isn’t around to tell him not to spend time with his eldest child… a child he had with another woman before he was even married. </p><p> </p><p>The only texts he replies to...are...well...Hinata. Because for some reason, the boy is still awake and about three-fourths of all the texts were from him. And he’s still texting. Adding up. He sends a single text:</p><p> </p><p><em> Why aren’t you asleep? You have practice later today </em>. </p><p> </p><p>Less than two seconds later, instead of a text, his phone screen is replaced with the profile picture he has for Hinata, an <em> accept </em> and <em> decline </em> call button on the screen. He reluctantly presses the <em> accept </em>button, putting the call on speaker and folding his arms on the table, resting the side of his face against the crook of his elbow. </p><p> </p><p>“Daichi-san!” Hinata exclaims. “Ohmygods you’re not dead!”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not dead” Daichi leaughs. He shifts in his seat. “Now why are you still awake?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I was, uh, worried about you” Hinata says. “And then my aunt also came home really late.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm...what does your aunt do?”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not important!” he says. “Me and Kageyama tried to look for you but we couldn’t. And we ran into Suga-san and he told us that you ran away from home and not to tell anyone but you’re a big brother, why would you leave your siblings-”</p><p> </p><p>“They’re not my siblings.” Daichi says, tightening his grip on the phone. There’s silence on the other end. </p><p> </p><p>“Huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“I-it’s a long story” he sighs, massaging the area between his eyes. “Go to bed, Hinata.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not until you let me know where you are. I promise I won’t tell anyone!”</p><p> </p><p>Daichi mentally weighs the pros and cons. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, Hinata. I need” he takes a deep breath and suddenly sits up, covering his mouth his his hand. He can’t break down in front of his underclassman like this, and over the phone no-less at two in the morning. “I need to be alone.”</p><p> </p><p>“Daichi-san…”</p><p> </p><p>“You know, we should both get some rest” Daichi says, failing to make his voice lighter. “I’ll be at practice tomorrow, don’t you worry.”</p><p> </p><p>“Eight in the morning?” Hinata asks. </p><p> </p><p>“Eight in the morning. Make sure you beat Kageyama this time.”</p><p> </p><p>“GWAH- of course I will! I always do! Have...have a good night, Daichi-san.” </p><p> </p><p>“You too, Hinata.” He ends the call and puts the phone in his bag before lying down on his side on the bench,. “I’ll see everyone tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>When Daichi wakes up the next morning, it’s to tears dried on his voice, a soar throat, dry mouth, and a table leg digging into his side from where he’s fallen onto it from the bench sometime when he was sleeping. </p><p> </p><p>He crawls out from under the table with a groan. The shop doesn’t open for a few more hours but he has to go to practice, making sure he’s not late so that the others don’t freeze out there. </p><p> </p><p>He changes into his practice clothes, patting his stomach at the loud growl it releases. He’ll get something along the way, if there’s anywhere open so early. </p><p> </p><p>Before he leaves, he puts his school bag on the table, grabbing a napkin and writing his name and phone number on there in case a worker comes in early. Then just like Mamiko-san requested, he locks the door behind him after unlocking it to leave. As expected, it’s cold inside. He shivers but adjusts the bag on his shoulder, stifling a yawn before walking towards where he knows by heart Karasuno is. </p><p> </p><p>Along the way, he stops by a bakery, getting three large freshly baked nice hot brownies. Even though he knows it’s not recommended to have sweets before practice he wants to relax once in a while too, to allow himself to actually do what he <em> wants </em>instead of doing what he thinks would make others, but not himself, happy. </p><p> </p><p>He almost cries again. And over a simple brownie too. Gods, it hasn’t even been twelve hours yet. </p><p> </p><p>The brownie, though, it’s really good. Nice and gooey and chocolatey. He wonders how he’s going to have the time to eat the others when he’s halfway through his second brownie. Should he stop to eat and then continue walking, since he can see the top of Karasuno already, only two minutes away? Or should he continue and <em> then </em>stop if he hasn’t finished? Too complicated. He continues eating and walking, each step making him have to steel himself even more against anything that could happen. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, DAICHI-SAN!” He hears a voice cry out. He lifts his head up from where he bowed it a bit to take a bite from the brownie he holds by the paper of the bag to not get his hands dirty. Hinata waves at him. He waves back, sticking a hand into his pocket to pull out the keys. </p><p> </p><p>“Good morning!” He sees that Kageyama is also there. “Did you beat Kageyama?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” Hinata replies. </p><p> </p><p>“Do you want some brownie, you two?” Daichi asks. Both Hinata’s and Kageyama’s gazes intensify on him. He can’t help the small laugh that leaves him, splitting the last brownie in half and giving it to the two, watching their faces brighten even more when they feel its warmth in the morning cold. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re here early” Hinata says. “It’s usually Tanaka-senpai who lets us in.” Daichi shrugs. </p><p> </p><p>“I was in the area. Anyway, let’s go-”</p><p> </p><p>“Daichi-san” Kageyama says, shuffling on his feet. “Th-thank you for the brownie. I, uh, Sugawara-san said to call him if we saw you.”</p><p> </p><p>“But Suga will be coming to practice” Daichi says with a smile. “Don’t worry about it.” But there is one thing he’s worrying about- the two of them are staring at him very intensely, brows slightly furrowed, but they’re not meeting his eyes. What are they looking at?</p><p> </p><p>Koushi comes in with Kiyoko and Asahi about eight minutes later, all three of their eyes widening to different degrees upon spotting him. </p><p> </p><p>“DAICHI, YOU EVIL CRUEL CHILD!” Koushi exclaims, marching towards Daichi. Daichi can’t hold back the small flinch. Koushi notices, apparently, immediately stopping before he could invade Daichi’s personal space. His best friend bites his lower lip, looking Daichi over. </p><p> </p><p>“Did she do that?” </p><p> </p><p>Daichi blinks, confused. </p><p> </p><p>“Do what?”</p><p> </p><p>Koushi taps his cheek. “That. There’s a...pretty bad bruise. I talked to the twins. Your mom-”</p><p> </p><p>“She’s not my mom.” Daichi says. Koushi’s face softens. </p><p> </p><p>“Daichi, I know that you’re angry at her, but-”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m <em> not </em>angry” Daichi sighs. He’s suddenly so tired. Sleeping in a cafe and waking up on the floor isn’t really fulfilling. “Do you even know what happened? She literally told me she’s not my mom. My dad had an affair when they were engaged. The woman, she left me on my dad’s doorstep after he got married. For some reason they took me in, even though it’s obvious my mom- my dad’s wife” he corrects himself “Didn’t want me. She never has. A-and I always tried” his voice breaks. He bows his head and Koushi quickly hugs him, ushering him to the storage room. Asahi and Kiyoko quickly take out the net and balls so that no one would have any reason to go into the storage room. Daichi is quickly sat down by Karasuno’s newly made banner, Koushi sitting down beside him, wrapping an arm around him. </p><p> </p><p>“I am so sorry” Koushi says. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s not your fault” Daichi laughs. “She’s always been like this. I just...can’t believe I’ve always thought of her as being my mom, as in a good mom, when she’s treated me like crap my whole life. Do you know what the worse part was? She told Chiyo and Rin that I’m not family, that I’m not their brother.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Daichi…”</p><p> </p><p>Daichi buries his face in Koushi’s shoulder and he wonders what he’s done to deserve to know people like this, people who are nice and kind. </p><p> </p><p>“We’re back” Asahi’s voice comes. Daichi lifts his head up just a little so he can watch as Kiyoko and Asahi also sit down, and then Daichi is the center of a big hugging circle. Koushi’s arm around his waist, Asahi and Kiyoko’s around his torso. Now he’s forced to rest on Asahi, letting all the tears pour out while he’s comforted by his three closest friends. </p><p> </p><p>“I can ask your dad if you can stay with me, is that alright?” Koushi asks. “Stay the night at least. Where have you been anyway?”</p><p> </p><p>“C-cafe” Daichi says. </p><p> </p><p>“Ah, Mamiko-san’s.” Asahi nods. Daichi lets out a small laugh. </p><p> </p><p>“This is horrible” his voice comes out wetly. “We shouldn’t be doing this. I’m not supposed to-”</p><p> </p><p>“Actually let your emotions out?” He can practically sense Koushi raising an eyebrow at him. “Daichi, even you deserve to cry sometimes. You can’t always be strong. Don’t worry- we’re all here to support you.”</p><p><br/>“Thank you.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please leave a comment!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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